


Femme fatale - The MI6 AU

by Raupenkoenig



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Femme Fatale, Kinda, MI6 Lena, MI6 au, Overwatch AU, bad guy widow, kind of a Bond AU?, spy AU, the AU no one apperantly did SO I HAD TO, what a shocker gee wow predictable much, will probably get upgraded to Explicit later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raupenkoenig/pseuds/Raupenkoenig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Talon"<br/>A name that leaves everyone at MI6 headquarters in frustration. Over the past few years the organization has caused nothing but trouble from prositution and drugs all the way to actual massdestruction weapons.<br/>Around 1 1/2 years ago MI6 finally decided to create a special department that specialized itself purely on Talon. But the leads are getting them nowhere lately. Until they decide to look into a small Talon lab where they bump into a little obstacle that later turns out to not only be good at sniping but also extremly talented at flirting with a certain British Agent; leaving the normally cheeky MI6 Agents known as 'Tracer' a little more than just confused when the sniper decides that playing with her pray could actually be more fun than killing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I was desperate for a 'Spy' kind of AU in the modern setting with dear Lena as an MI6 Agent/Spy and Widow as the bad gal but I couldn't find even a single one so I had to start one myself before I die of thirst.
> 
> Things you should know before reading: I am not a native speaker so there will be mistakes in this I can actually be so sure as to promise you that because I do not have a beta reader.  
> Also: this is my first english fic I am uploading so I really would love to get feedback from you guys!  
> Especially on grammar and that kind of stuff! Slay me with corrections; i welcome them!
> 
> (Translations for the few german words are at the bottom)

The cold crept up the small neck of the British Agent as she made her way across the big facility dragging her feet through the thick snow that pretty much went all the way up to her knees at more than just some points. And although she already wore a lot more than her usual bomber-jacket outfit the Russian cold managed to gnaw on her bones though all the layers of her clothes.  
Maybe she should have said yes to those extremely warm looking pants that her senior colleague offered her not even twenty minutes ago. But then again since her agility was her strong point she couldn't take the risk of such thick and unpractical clothes. Not on a Mission. It may be one of the more simpler missions but that didn't change the fact that carelessness could still cost lives. And that's what she wanted to avoid at all cost. No one would get hurt on her watch. 

“Already regretting declining those comfy pants, Lena?” 

speaking of the devil.. the thick German accent brought her out of her thoughts and back into the freezing cold reality; instantly giving her another shiver. 

“You know me too well Reinhardt. But no can do can it? I need my legs light. Although I can't even really feel 'em right now..” 

The British woman laughed. A little unsure if she should be worried about that. 

“Don't worry, Dirn, Angela will fix them before anything happens.”

The blonde woman looked towards them when she heard her name pass by accompanied by the howling wind. 

“Reinhardt how often do I have to tell you not to use our names on missions. You are too reckless.”

She almost had to shout a little since she was a few feet further behind them. She was more of a Medic than an actual field agent so she always was kept save in the back rows. Tracer, as Lena was called, lost count of how many times the swiss woman already saved her life. 

“Sorry, sorry.”

The older German laughed and didn't seem all too concerned. He probably assumed that no one would be able to hear anything from afar anyway. And he probably was right. The wind seemed to get more intense and to their luck snow started mix into it which made it pretty painful on the face considering with what kind of speed those little snow crystals currently hit their already frozen faces. The brunette was glad she decided to wear her orange goggles..

“There it is.” 

Reinhardts voice got a lot more serious. Their objective. An old fabric building which used to be an Omnic birthplace but was now only used to more or less recycle broken ones. Under the Fabric was supposed to be some kind of lab run by Talon. And each time the Name 'Talon' appeared something really really bad was going on. MI6 had several severe encounters with the group over the past three years and the worst part was: they barely knew anything about them. They just knew they had the newest technology, pretty skilled troops and nothing but bad intentions. Everything from Prostitution and drugs up to nuclear weapons and other deadly massdestruction weapons. Both biological and mechanical. This lab was supposed to be a smaller one and only a few people seemed to be stationed here. And it was also the only good lead they had right now considering Talon.

“Mission is clear. We go in as planned. Ready? GO!” 

Reinhardts voice was barely a whisper and Tracer was sure she was the only one that was able to make out the words. But the rest of the team read his signals and just nodded before splitting up.  
They were six people in total. Reinhardt, Angela, or “Mercy”, two other Agents that seemed to be stationed here since Tracer couldn't remember ever seeing them before and Zarya.  
Tracer's objective was to go in through a side door with Zarya, her Russian colleague, who, in comparison to Lena, didn't seem to have a problem at all with all that snow. To be fair she barely even sank much into the snow since she was quiet.... a lot... taller than Tracer herself. 

“Are you coming or do I need to carry you?” 

The harshly rolled r let the smaller one jump a little. Zarya was already ahead of her.  
She still didn't know what to think of the pink haired Agent. But instead of laying out the pros and cons to evaluate in the middle of the mission she just shook her head and tried to catch up.  
Her legs were definitely going to need a hot bath after this.  
The young brunette repeated the plan over and over again picturing the blueprints in her head to make sure she got every nook and cranny remembered in which the enemy could hide in.  
The ear pieces came to life and crackled a little before Reinhardts voice growled. 

“Let's show these people where the hammer hangs.” 

The coms were silent for a moment. Tracer and Zarya stopped to look at each other with a similar confused expression. Was that a new code they didn't know about? 

“Uhm, Reinhardt I think that sentence doesn't work in engli-”

“JOIN ME IN GLORY.” 

The male German voice interrupted the unsure sounding blonde.  
Zarya just shrugged and kicked the thin metal door down so the smaller of the two could jump in and take out any danger awaiting. Like a routine Tracer jumprolled into the Building ready to shoot at first sight of movement. Her guns two guns out, her heart beating fast almost in joy, her eyes full of concentration and the usual cheeky smirk on her lips.  
But there was no one opening fire. Not a single Person was there to shoot her.  
It was dead silent.  
Tracer shot a quick glance at her Colleague. Her expression was obvious. She was suspicious and so was the British woman. Talon was known for having a massive amount of mercenaries and using them generously to ensure nothing interrupted their work. Quick Tracer leaped forward to check the next rooms. Nothing.

Not a single soul showed up. The whole building was dead silent. Only the wind howling outside was adding to the creepiness that made Lena more and more nervous. This wasn't right..This was way too obvious. Something was wrong.  
Talon seemed to know they were coming. This either meant they were too late and they packed up and left or they were going to get ambushed.  
They met up with the Mercy and the rest like planned after what was planned as 'clearing out the back'. No one said a word but their expressions showed the concern. But they continued anyway. This was their job after all; and until Reinhardt said otherwise they were going to continue this mission.  
The oldest of them looked at Tracer and signed her 

“Look around. Watch out for movement outside. Take one with you.” 

And pointed at one of the Agents Tracer didn't know. After that the German looked at Zarya. 

“You. Go downstairs with me. Angela. Stay here, watch out with one other.” 

So he was suspecting an ambush.  
Tracer nodded firmly and was gone within a second. The other Agent trying to follow her as quick as he could. She jumped and pulled herself up the collapsed rusty stairs to the second floor. She saw a balcony like build on the outside of the building. It should be easy to look out for anything unusual from there.

 

\------

Time passed unbearably slow in the cold. Tracer teetered back and forth on her feet. She and the other Agent agreed on circling every three minutes to change their positions to at least move a little to not to completely freeze to death this way. The wind seemed to pick up even more on higher ground and the snow flakes had gotten a lot bigger which made it hard to see anything at all through the thick white curtain. She was glad she was on the more protected side of the building for now. 

“Bloody 'ell...” 

She started rubbing her upper arms with her hands in desperate hope of some warmth from the friction. It was in vain of course. What were a few rubs against a solid -30 degree Celsius.  
She didn't even have a pretty sight from up here. Old, tall cement buildings which probably used to be the workers quarters but now were nothing more than some crumbling grey blocks.  
Out of boredom she started counting the floors to keep her mind off her feet that really started to hurt by now. Ten floors. She realized and sighed. What now? Should she count the snowflakes?

“Lab is cleared we are coming back up.” 

Angelas voice sounded like the sweetest honey in Tracers frozen ears.

“Oh Gods, finally!” 

Tracer whined and made her way around to switch sides with her Colleague. 

“Hurry up I'm freezing my bloody bum off.”

She just arrived at the other side when she saw something in the corner of her eye. Her eyes narrowed wondering if there really was something or if it was just a snowflake. Since those have gotten humongously big.  
Just as she was about to shrug it off and tab onto her colleagues shoulder a sharp sound of a bullet barely passing by her ear let her freeze. The Man before her instantly sank to the ground his eyes wide open and completely liveless.

“SNIPER!” 

Tracer shouted with all the air that was left in her lungs before dodging behind some old metal box barely escaping another bullet that left a pretty impressive hole in the wall near her head.

“Man down. I repeat man down.”

“Can you take that sniper out??” 

Reinhardt knew they wouldn't get far with that sniper in their necks. There was nothing but snow for maybe two hundred meters.

“Not sure but I'm on it get back inside!”

“Take care!”

“Sure!”

Without hesitating she jumped right off the balcony falling down the maybe five meter down into the white cushions of snow. Her heart beat fast; pumping the adrenaline through her whole body. The cold seemed completely forgotten. Finally she had something to do. Finally some combat action.  
Covered in snow the brunette sprinted into the tall building the sniper had to be in and practically jumped up the stairs. She might be only 5'4'' but her legs were well trained and pretty long for her height which made it easier to just skip steps. Another Shot got fired.  
She was close.  
Her heart started racing like crazy. But she didn't get reckless. She was as quiet as always while being extremely fast. This is why she was one of the best. This was her strength.  
And there he was. Arriving at the what must have been around the 7th or 8th floor she instantly saw the sniper lying on his stomach. Tracer grinned and made her way towards the figure. 

“Whatcha lookin' at, love?” 

Her voice was anything but serious. Her head was almost on the same level as the snipers and she closed an eye as if she was looking through a scope herself. She sounded cheerful as ever. As if she just asked the sniper what kind of Game he was playing on his phone.  
While being this close to her opponent she spotted a familiar looking sign on the Rifle and on the bandana the Sniper was wearing over his mouth to keep himself save from the cold.  
Talon.  
The sniper instantly rolled to the side aiming at her and within a blink of an eye the sniper rifle turned into an assault rifle making the small British woman jump back. 

“'ey woah careful with that!”  
She didn't sound frightened at all and even laughed a little while dodging the bullets. She pulled out her own weapons, a pretty small gun in each hand. The sniper may have cool gadgets but so did she. Her her little guns were modified to shoot fast. Extremely fast.  
The sniper dodged just like the British girl did before glancing back at the tall building where Tracers colleagues already seemed to make a move. 

“Oh bullocks, didn't I tell them to wait??” 

She sighed a little less cheery before charging at her opponent. 

“Oi, eyes on me, love!” 

She managed to tackle the other back down onto the cold cement but got pushed off instantly in a fluent move by the legs of her opponent. Impressed by how fast her opponent reacted and almost made her crash anything but elegantly into the wall she raised her eyebrows.  
So this one was a challenge. Perfect. She aimed at the Talon sniper and grinned. 

“I really hope that's not all you got.” 

Her opponent just clicked his tongue in annoyance. Before they were at it again. Shooting at the same time while dodging with fast but still fluent motions. He didn't seem to be up to fighting but didn't have any other choice since the Agent wouldn't allow herself to let someone get away that possibly holds more information bout Talon than her whole department. Tracer didn't even vaguely try to kill him. She just kept shooting to make sure his attention was on her and not on her teammates out in the open.  
Again the British girl charged into the other person when she saw an opening while he reloaded. This time though the Talon sniper didn't react fast enough and let out a little painful grunt while Tracer landed on him. It was surprisingly soft. Winter clothes sure had their advantage. Quickly the brunette kicked the weird transforming rifle as far away as possible and pretty much made it slide all the way to the stairs. Good. One Problem at a time.

Tracer was about to get rid off the weird head piece of the sniper but a sudden, unbearable high tone made her flinch and cover her ears. It felt like it was piercing her brain and made her see nothing but bright red. The sniper on the other hand seemed completely fine and just pushed her off running towards his riffle. 

“Oh no you won't..!”  
Although stumbling, the British girl followed pretty quick making her opponent click his tongue again. But she wasn't fully aware of her surroundings.  
Her head was still feeling weirdly dizzy like TV noise that flashed in her head again and again causing her to miss the violet small build the sniper smacked onto the wall which turned out to be some kind of poison cloud which Tracer ran into head on. She collapsed to her knees instantly coughing and wheezing. It burned in her lungs and made it hard to breathe. 

“Crap..” 

She wheezed and tried to look up. Just in time to see the sniper aim for her downstairs with the sniper riffle again.

“Bloody hell!”

She barely managed to roll to the side avoiding a direct hit. Her goggle on the other hand got crazed and the orange glass shattered. Making her shut her eyes as tight as she could.  
But glass shards were her least dangerous problem right now. She tried to get up. Again and again. Wondering after a while why there was still no bullet in her brain. 

“Tracer?!”

“Mercy?? No wait don't..don't get.. closer the bloody...sniper..” 

The brunettes head started spinning. Her sight seemed to darken. 

“don't...” 

Mercy didn't seem to care and bowed over her removing the broken goggles quickly. The smaller one could vaguely feelthe others finger searching for her pulse and although she couldn't see anything by now she still felt Angelas finger pulling up her eyelid. She groaned a little. Everything felt heavy and her lungs burned. The last thing she could hear was the soft voice of the swiss woman almost humming. And although she couldn't male out any words the brunette was sure she was saying. 

“You're going to be alright, don't worry.”


	2. Champagne and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracer is in a nice dress inbetween Mafia bosses and meets a beautiful french and mysterious woman.
> 
> A.k.a.: Tracer remembers she cant stand flirting with guys and realizes once again just how gay she is.

“Ok I am in.”

The brunette quietly said while making her way across a little bridge that lead over an indoor pond with Kois. She Struggling not to make a face. These shoes were probably the most uncomfortable ones she has ever walked in. And she already walked in a lot of uncomfortable shoes for the sake of undercover missions. So many blisters... so many bandages. So much pain..

_“Are you going to be okay?”_

A soft female voice asked a little bit concerned but with an obvious amusement. It was Fareeha, one of her few Colleagues that was more her age though she was still older by a few years.

“Would ya like to switch?”

_“And drink expensive beverages with olives in them while simply looking around for some familiar faces and flirting? I'd love to. But you're the only one who saw that guy in Russia so we have to rely on your brain for that.”_

Tracer huffed at that.

“Oh really, you like to flirt? Tell Angela that, Fareeha. But really.. why do I have to wear such a bloody tight dress? Why not one of those hot tailored suits like you got to wear last time?”

 _“Because most Men prefer Woman in 'bloody tight dresses'. And you look really good in what you are wearing right now. Don't worry.”_

It was not like Tracer was concerned whether she looked good or not. It was just not really her comfort zone.  
The Agent briefly looked down. She was wearing a black, tight fitting dress with a neck holder and a triangle like window right underneath her breasts which kind of made her glad to have rather small breasts because she'd guess someone with even just slightly bigger cups would probably be in danger with this kind of cut.  
Aside from that it reached down right to her knees with an ridiculously huge slit on the side almost showing her underwear. Fareeha and Hana, another colleague, both recommended to wear a string but Tracer didn't plan to weirdly shift trying to get that string out of her butt the whole evening. She didn't like those weird things plus she had a rather small butt so it probably wouldn't look good on her anyway.  
….not that she cared whether she looked good or not..

“Bloody Men.. ugh..”

_“Language.”_

“UGH.”

She cursed under her breathe while looking around to get a picture of the location and finally concentrate. The location was rather small and still managed to look dumbfoundingly expensive. But what did she expect. It was nothing but Mafia and corrupt politicians here. The later was the reason why she was here in the first place. That and because of Talon.  
Everything was held in golden and dark, wine red colors and wood which Tracer suspected was probably Mahagoni. Most of the space was being occupied by the bar and several couches with small tables filled with all kinds of snacks and bottles. But there was also a huge amount of gambling going on to her left. It almost felt like she stumbled into some high end casino with all the chips and cards.  
But gambling wasn't her goal in this mission. The things happening int the back were far more interesting.  
It was assured by several sources that Talon members would be present and Tracer didn't question it. It was one bad guys next to the other here and Talon lived off those rich people's criminal intentions. This was a perfect party for them to get new clients and make some new friends.  
But the important politicians surely didn't mingle with just some Mafia in the front were everyone bursting in could see their faces.

_“Remember to watch out for you little sniper friend. And of course your back since we only have like three cameras available.”_

“Mh.” she just hummed acknowledging while walking past one of the many caterers grabbing a fancy champagne from his plate while grinning playfully at him.

_“Take your time, act natural.”_

She didn't answer that and just rolled her eyes. She knew how to work undercover. This was definitely not her first undercover mission. It may have been a while since the last one but what difference did that make.  
She took some more time glancing around, making sure she had seen every possible opportunity where people could mingle or maybe hide away to not be seen at first glance.  
Some faces looked familiar but it was just the local Mafia.  
They were indeed trouble as well but not Tracer's trouble right now so she just kept looking around. Her personal main focus was trying to find the Silhouette of the sniper although she couldn't be sure he was even present and with all those winter clothing she really had to do the math. It had to be someone around 5 inch taller than her and with rather thin arms. Thin but pretty strong ones.. not to forget the trained legs. The back had to be rather small as well. So someone of average height and an more or less average build...? She really wasn't that sure and it frustrated her.. That man killed a colleague of her and all she really saw was a nose-tip that seemed to have turned blue or violet from the cold.  
The British woman tried not to groan in frustration. Everyone here seemed to go to the gym on a daily basis judging from their 'Dorito like builds' as Hana would probably describe them.  
In conclusion: The Sniper probably wasn't here. At least not in the front..  
The thoughts of delicious Doritos made her mouth water though and her stomach growl a little in protest. She hadn't been able to eat much more than a slice of toast this morning scared she probably wouldn't fit into this damn dress if she ate more. And it had been a ridiculous fear since the only curves she had were her small breasts and the, in her opinion, okay-ish butt. As she liked to say.  
But now that she was in this black hell she could probably risk eating at least a few bites, right?

Tracer made her way to the buffet, not being able to suppress a grin at the big variety. She really hoped Fareeha saw this delicious dream of a buffet through one of those cameras.

_“Oh, really?”_

Yupp, she did.

“Just blending in.”

The British Agent hummed happily while taking something that looked like sushi with some gold on it which Tracer blew off right away.  
Oh yes. This was nice.  
While eating all sorts of small fingerfood variations she obviously didn't miss to look around and keep an eye on things. Something seemed to change in the atmosphere. People got quieter...? With a raised eyebrow she scanned the room once more. The lights got dimmer and everyone seemed to have their gazes fixed on one thing. A little stage that the brunette hadn't even noticed before suddenly was lit up with some warm lights and the crowd that gathered suddenly parted while a piano started playing some notes. It was a nice Piano solo. Something fitting for this kind of place. Rather relaxing. But nothing prepared her for what was about to come next.  
A low, female voice starting singing slowly in french. A language she never really cared for. Tracer's body felt like an electric wave just shot through her, making her little hairs on her arms shoot up and her eyes widen in shock.  
It felt unreal.  
A woman, probably a little older than Lena herself and also a few inches taller than her. Especially in those heels, made her way through the crowd. Her walk slow and tempting while swinging her hips elegantly with each step she made. Her hair was long, black with several braids that were tied back except for two or three thin strands that framed her face.  
The dress she wore was just as black as Tracers but the cut was completely different. Barely covered anything of her chest.

Lena had a hard time swallowing.  
But not just that woman's voice and figure seemed to be inhuman. Something was off with her skin. It looked different. But Tracer couldn't make out what it was. The warm lights seemed to distract from it. When she was finally able to tear her gaze away from the woman she noted right away that more people came in than before but somehow it didn't feel crowded. So either this room somehow magically expanded or people disappeared into the back.  
She shook her head for a second to make sure her head was in the game again and not on that stage with that magnificent woman.

“Time to flirt..”

she said while clearing her throat before showing some more of those sushi things into her mouth. 

_“Wow you ok there? I thought I lost you there for a moment. Sure lost Phara. She just drooled all over the manual....”_

Tracer snorted and took her champagne, looking around. Who was the richest looking one around here. Probably the one with the biggest amount of women glued to him and someone that wasn't really swayed by someone like that woman because he could just buy her probably..  
It took her not even two seconds to spot someone fitting her exact image. It wasn't hard since almost everyone was heading for the stage..  
The rather young man just looked up so the young British woman made her way to one of the caterers that was in said man's sight and made sure to 'swing dem hips' as Hana liked to say.

_“Nice.”_

A compliment from Fareeha that made Tracer grin sheepishly and actually blush a little. She almost forgot they were looking.  
But she knew that someone else was definitely looking.  
She only glanced with a small smile towards him before asking the caterer something to look more interesting. While she did she glanced once more for maybe two seconds towards him just to make sure she had his attention and then turned her back to him walking extremely slow towards the bar.

_“Oh that's mean Lena.”_

One...two...

“Pardon me.”

Bingo.  
Interested she looked up to the Man. He didn't look all too bad. A well groomed beard a charming smile. Like your typical average white guy that could be the next bachelor.

“I've never seen you before. First Time? May I buy you a drink?”

_“I cant believe that worked.”_

Fareeha's voice was nothing more than a sigh.

_“You don't flirt with men often do you.”_

Hana.

Annoyed from the distracting conversation in her ear the brunette brushed some not really existing hair behind her ear, making sure to hit the com softly causing an unpleasant noise for the other two. Silence. Good.  
Tracer focused on the guy again and decided to play the naive one.  
She rarely flirted with guys. When she did it was most of the time in a pub with the goal to get some drinks for free.

“I don't come often to these kind of parties. You got me.. Too many people.”

she giggled a little brushing some strands of hair behind her ear. Maybe playing a little tipsy would be good. She just hoped this one was an easy catch and didn't need any lips on his to be convinced. 

“A shy one, huh?”

In you dreams. 

“Maybe.. I was actually about to go. There seem to be more and more people coming and I don't know.. I told daddy I wouldn't be out for long tonight and it's almost midnight.”

He grinned at that.

“Well that's cute. How about I call you Cinderella then.”

Lena had a hard time laughing at that but did it anyway. Because she realized this man actually fit the optic of the sniper. His voice may be a little deep but maybe if she got him to click his tongue...

“That's actually what he uses to call me.”

_“Tracer I think me might have a way into the back. Does he have a card on him? Something that looks like a black credit card?”_

“Well maybe I can be your Dadd-”

And whoops within a split second champagne soaked into his suit that was probably more expensive than the past ten years of the brunettes life.  
Making him jump and curse. Tracer covered her mouth with both Hands.

“Ohmygod I am so sorry!”

Her voice nothing more than an 'embarrassed' whisper.  
Through her com she could hear some faint snorts from what she assumed was Hana's voice. 

_“I can't believe you pulled that old trick.”_

But she didn't pay much attention to it and instead took some of the napkins from the counter to dry him off. While repeating small apologies over and over again.

“This is so embarrassing, Oh my god. I will be right back, wait right here!”

And with those words she hurried off into the back where she assumed had to be the toilets, keycard between her fingers.  
What a waste of splendid champagne.. But oh well. Better than kissing him.  
She stopped for a second in front of the toilet, making sure no one was in sight, and then moved on. She just had to find a door with a key-card lock. Easy.

“I am afraid that's the wrong direction. You just passed the toilet, Cherie.”

Tracer froze. It probably took her a split second too long to make it seem natural until she turned around to look at the source of the voice that made her skin crawl.  
It was the singer.  
Tracer swallowed hard once again. She was even prettier up close and he fragrance that hit her face made the smaller one's head spin. But it didn't keep her from noticing the obvious. The other woman's skin was blue. It was an actual inhuman blue. It didn't make her less sexy but something inside Tracer screamed danger. And the look the French gave her seemed to confirm that feeling. It was a devouring look. Like a wild animal ready to kill its prey which it so carefully separated from the herd. She slowly took a step back. Chuckling innocently but she was pretty sure the other oone could hear the nervousness.

“Is that so? I always forget where they are. Thank you.”

She oh so slowly and carefully tucked the black card into the side of her panties. Now she was actually glad that her dress had such a huge slit.  
Smiling at the taller woman she made her way carefully past her but she just heard a chuckle and was immediately grabbed by the wrist and thrown against the wall. Causing a loud noise from the wall and a painful grown from the Agent. But she didn't waver for long before trying to escape. Lifting her back from the hard wall, pushing the black haired woman back a little just to be pressed down with seemingly no effort at all.

“Well that's just cute isn't it.. cocky all evening and look at you now. Eyes full of fear. Scared to get eaten alive.”

_“Tracer? What's wrong?”_

Tracer scowled up at her.

“In your dreams, missi-”

a knee in her stomach interrupted her. Making her wince and cough. But the woman didn't seem to care and lifted her chin up so their eyes met again. The touch of the taller one made Tracer flinch. Her fingers were Ice cold, squeezing her cheeks. 

“Such a sweet foolish girl. Now how about you give me your little ear piece?”

It was a rhetorical question of course..  
Her cold fingers made her way up to her ear. Sending goosebumps up and down the brunettes back while her heart raced like crazy. She was so sure it would just stop beating at any moment now. She had to get away. There had to be a way to get away somehow.  
And just like that she dropped to the floor, ripping herself from those fingers and escaping through in-between her legs. But just as she raised back to her feet from the dive a hand grabbed the back of her head and she was showed with rough force against the other wall opposite from where she just had been pinned. By now she couldn't suppress a small whine. Her head was numb and throbbing and she was sure her skin cracked open from the impact on her temple.  
The world seemed to spin around her.

_“Tracer??”_

“mh...” she tried to reach for her com but the cold, light blue fingers were faster.

_“Lena what's wrong???”_

“Tsk..Pardon. Sweet little Lena is a little busy right now.” 

And with those words the French woman crushed the small device with one of her high heels. But Tracer couldn't care less. That clicking with the tongue.  
“Y-YOU are the sni.. sniper??”

Her voice was full of disbelieve and nothing more than a airless croak while she struggled even more now to get away. But her attempts were less powerful. Everything was numb and spinning. The french just chuckled. 

“Oui but what now Cherie? It's just you and me now. No more 'Phara' that can help you. No more 'D.va'.. what will you do?”

Tracer tried to look at her through the strands of her while still being pressed with her head against the wall. She couldn't form a sentence. And even if she could. What was she supposed to say?  
She flinched again when she felt the cold hands travel down her back. An incoherent grown left her lips at that.

“Oh I know. How about we play a little game.”

Tracer's eyebrows furrowed. Game? What could they possibly-  
Her whole body froze when she felt the other one's fingers travel farther down to the opening of her dress on the side of her hip down her leg. Her skin felt like it was on fire in comparison to those thin fingers that crazed her skin. Fingernails digging slightly into the skin as they made their way up her outer tight.  
By now Tracer's face was flushed. Her brain was searching for some kind of training that would help her right now in this situation. But there was none. She couldn't think of a single thing of how she could escape this situation.  
She felt the slow, seemingly relaxed breaths near her. Interrupted by a low, soft chuckle which made her shut her eyes.

“What cute earrings you have. I like them, Cherie.” 

The smaller one tried to push her back with all her body weight once again. But the other woman just seemed to grin at that pitiful before pressing her back against the wall. This time pinning Tracers hips with her own. Making the agent blush all the way up to her ears.  
What kind of heaven-hell situation was this..  
But the woman didn't stop there. She let her fingers slip under the elastic of Tracers panties causing her to bite her lip and press together her legs as she felt soft, but pretty chilly lips tracing down her neck.  
This woman wasn't really thinking about having sex with her right here in the hallway were someone could pass by any second. 

Right? 

_Right??_

She twitched as the elastic on her hip snapped back onto her skin an the soft breathing was near her right ear again. The fingers that previously snuck their way under the elastic now slowly made their way over her lover stomach all the way to the other side of her hips leaving a burning trail of skin behind under Tracers dress.

“Oh too bad. Look at the time.. don't you think good little girls should sleep at this hour, or non? And don't worry about the little black card. I will take it with me for now.”

And with those words she felt a sharp sting in her neck before everything went black once again.


	3. Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracer get's to feel what a concussion is like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really tired it's the middle of the night i hope there aren't any extreme mistakes in there oh boi.

“What do you mean the sniper escaped??”

Tracer let herself fall back into the fluffy cushions of the medic ward and groaned. Partly because she was frustrated, partly because her lungs still hurt like hell.

“Well I had to take care of you first. That's my priority, dear. And though Reinhardt and Zarya went in on the other side of the building at the same time they couldn't spot anyone.”

“Oh bullocks...”

The younger one coughed and made a face due to the pain. But she didn't complain. She could have been worse off considering the sniper could have easily shot her. But he didn't... she had been such an easy target just lying there on the ground coughing trying to get up.. so why did he just flee? He could've even shot their precious medic. And that surely would have been an extremely heavy loss for the whole MI6 branch.  
The brunette sighed and looked up to the white ceiling.  
Angela decided to leave her alone with her thoughts and left the room to attend other injured Agents that all got gathered her under the MI6 building.  
Her gaze wandered from the ceiling to a small flower bouquet on her night stand, which was probably from Reinhardt, and kept wandering until she stopped at the little machine that kept channeling O2 through the thin tubes into her nose and the monitor that kept track of her vital signs.

“Yupp. Still alive and kickin'.”

But she didn't get to be alone for long until someone knocked on her door and came in without even waiting for an answer.

“Good Morning, Tracer. You seem to do just fine.”

It was jack. He was one of the older ones probably one of the most experienced members of The MI6 department. The newer members often were scared of him but Lena knew from the beginning that he was a nice and actually pretty caring guy which he of course would never admit in front of others. And he seemed to have somewhat of a crush on Angela. Which he of course denied. It probably wouldn't do him any good to confess since the beloved medic was already in an obvious but still weirdly hidden relationship with Fareeha. But aside from that little heartache he has been one of the leaders for the special department from the start and seemed to be the most experienced as well when it came to 'Talon'. He was convinced that an old, good friend of his was a Talon member but up until now we never could neither prove, nor deny that. All they all knew was that he was missing. 

“Mornin' to you too Jack.”

“It's still Sir Morrison to you, punk.”

Tracer just smiled cheeky at that. The younger ones loved giving him a hard time and she was no exception.  
She looked at the clipping board in his hand. Raising her eyebrows at it. It seemed to be some kind of files about someone or something.

“Anyway,” he glanced at the papers “the sniper killed the whole team. It's a miracle that you survived.”

Tracer's heart dropped and the sensation of shock crawled up her neck before she shook it off to furrow her eyebrows and squint up at him.

“What..? What are you talking about, Angela was just here.....? And that bouquet is from Reinhardt..”

“You must still be high on that weird gas and those painkillers. The sniper killed them all while you wandered off to flirt with some random guy because you saw an opportunity to get another one of those sugar daddies.”

The brunette haired woman looked at him with what was probably the most confused face she has ever pulled in her whole life.

“wha-? Why would I ever...”

“Yupp, that's all on you, kid. Oh before I forget! She is here to thank you for those easy targets. What a coincident that she works here at MI6. Who would've guessed that.”

And just like that the door opened and a nurse came in. It took Tracer a moment or two to realize that this particular nurse didn't seem nor did she emit the feeling of a nurse. Her skin was dyed in a weird blue shimmer and her uniform was barely covering her ass which made the young british woman squint even more before her eyes shot open in realization.

“YOU?! Wait what are you-”

The woman just smiled almost hungrily and stepped closer with her tempting walk while Morrison just watched as if this was a normal situation. But the woman came closer and closer in that almost pornographic outfit until Tracer had to push herself further into her cushions to get away from her. She was the Sniper. How was Morrison just watching? How was he just standing there?? Why didn't he do anything???  
A weirdly sweet scent started to dance around the younger one's nose. It reminded her of roses and some kind of wood. It felt oddly familiar although she couldn't think of a time she ever smelled something alike.  
But Tracers thoughts jumped right back into the present when she felt ice cold fingers touch her lips. Her heart started racing like crazy and her eyes didn't seem to be able to focus. Her pupils weren't standing still for even a split second. Her throat went dry as she tried to form sentences, just a word...

“So why don't we pick up our little interaction from where we left off the last time, Cherie.”

A rhetorical question, since she was already leaning over her and gliding down her neck with the cold fingers all the way down to her barely covered collarbone. And she didn't seem to plan on stopping any time soon since her other hand decided to slide down even further while her mouth started to gently nib on her skin sending weird shivers down her spine. The woman started to lift Tracers Hospital shirt slowly, making sure that the smaller one felt the cold digits brush up the skin of her inner tight.

“Wait , where are you- W-WOAH!”

With a loud shout she shot up from a couch, almost falling off of it. Panting and panicked she stared blankly at a familiar looking wall. She scanned the room that was almost nothing but darkness and some silhouettes on the wall from the streetlights below. But the darkness wasn't a problem. She didn't have to see anything. She knew where she was just from the feeling of the old leather couch and the wall with a framed picture of a poster that said “Keep calm and Tracer on.”. A gift from her best friend Lucio.  
She was home. In her own flat.  
It took her brain a second to start working more or less properly  
She ruffled her hair a bit before cupping her own cheeks. She felt weird. She couldn't even make out if it was a bad or a good kind of weird. Although her logical thinking assured her that it definitely had to be a bad kind of weird considering what the hell just happened. 

“A dream... a dream. Calm down it was just a dream... “ 

She breathed in deep. This dream definitely belonged up there with the top five weirdest dreams she ever had. And it was definitely one of those dreams you didn't tell anyone about. Absolutely no one. At least not the last part.  
Sighing she sank back into her old dark leather couch and stared at the ceiling for a bit. Her hand absentmindedly stroked her neck which felt a little odd. It wasn't a feeling she was unfamiliar with. But she hadn't felt it in quite a while so she couldn't really make out what it was exactly 

She looked at her Hands and started to gently pat her chest and everywhere the french woman had touched her. Just to make sure she really was alive and didn't have any kind of knife in-between her ribs.  
She mumbled some reassuring words like “You're fine, no blood. You are fine..” trying to calm down her still racing heart. But her cheeks just went from slightly red to dangerously red when she felt an odd, too well known, sensation between her legs. 

“what the-”

She was wet. Why the hell did she get turned on by something like that. That woman almost killed her _twice_ now. And on top of that her Boss was watching them in that dream. How creepy was that. She already could tell that the next time she saw him she had to hold back a visible cringe. Her eyes widened a bit more when the realization hit her what that other odd feeling on her neck was. Her hand shot back up to the weird tingling spot which almost hurt a little. She stumbled trying to get off the sofa and to the next mirror which was in the small entry hallway of her flat. She started slamming her hands at the wall trying to find the lightswitch and as soon as the light went on she squinted at her mirror image. A kiss mark She had a bloody kiss mark on her neck.

Not only did she fail the mission and got sedated by the enemy. No, she also got a kiss mark on her neck and was wet from said enemy. 

She stared at her flushed face. This was too unreal. This probably was just a dream within a dream. Maybe if she slapped or pinched herself she'd wake up. Were would she wake up? In the HQ of the enemy? Possibly the Headquarters of Talon?? Hesitantly closed her eyes and pinched her arm only to curse and rub the area shortly after. 

“...ouch. Not a dream then... But how did I get here.. How did she know where I live...?” 

Her head was throbbing and her temple pulsated rapidly. Where did she get that injury? The blood covering it was still wet.. She frowned at the pain her finger caused while circling it.  
Only now she realized that her body and mind were both screaming exhaustion in unison.  
With a low groaning noise she made her way back to the couch. But instead of lying down she furrowed her eyebrows at a little note on the table.

_”Don't move around too much. Champagne, drugs and a possible concussion don't mix well, cherie  
-Amélie”_

_Cherie_. Just reading that word made her recall her voice saying that word. An endearment.. Probably common in french. Tracer added _love_ to every other sentence as well. But hearing something like that from someone else in that weird, low, whispery voice send shivers up and down her spine.

“Amélie...” Tracer mumbled. “What a pretty name.”

_“P.s.: cute cat”_

She stared at those last few words.

“Lou? Lou bud, where are you?”

She stumbled through the flat making clicking noises with her tongue and whistling. Nothing. That woman didn't seriously take her cat did she??  
Ignoring the more and more spinning head, the young woman searched every room, in every nook and cranny where she knew her black cat liked to hide. Nothing. Panic started to rise in her throat. 

“Lou?!” 

She made her way to the kitchen and almost tripped over the giant black furrball that was munching away peacefully. Not even bothering to look up at his owner that was pretty much worried sick.

“Oh you little sonofa-”

She stared at the overflowing bowl.

“She fed you? Gods why did I even worry she wouldn't even be able to take you away you bloody fatso..”

The cat looked up at her unimpressed before continuing to eat.

“You were supposed to be on a diet. You are eating like three damn days worth of food right now you traitor. You should've scratched her or something. You can't just let strangers-”

She stopped mid-sentence and put a hand on her stomach. It felt heavy and as if she'd been on too many roller coasters in a row. Her head seemed to throb even more now.

“Oh no... oh god, toilet...”

Concussion indeed.  
The young agent sat on the cold tiled floor of her bathroom right next to her toilet, hugging it and resting her spinning head on it. The cold porcelain seemed like an angels touch to her head.  
She wasn't even sure if she was able to get back up to at least move to the bed or if she should just fall asleep right where she was.

 

 

 

The next morning Lena woke up in her bed. She couldn't remember how she got there but she couldn't care less. The warm morning sun made her skin tingle in a pleasant way. Lou was lying right next to her taking up more space than needed. Everything seemed perfect. That was until all the memories flooded back into her brain at once like someone just opened the gates to hell by simply flipping a switch.  
But she didn't panic this time it was more of an embarrassed feeling that filled up her chest. That kind of feeling that makes you want to tug your covers over your head and spend the next few weeks under them hiding from the rest of the world.  
But she got up non the less. She only slept in those fancy lace panties from the mission and an over sized t-shirt. She didn't even want to look at the dress right now. She was too scared of how puking-concussion-tracer got out of it.  
Rubbing her forehead she jumped into the shower and got ready to race to the bus stop just in time, realizing that her head was still not ok with running.

Yawning she entered the MI6 building. Everything seemed normal usual faces, usual conversation and an... unusual looking swiss woman..? Angela greeted her with a face of a person that had just seen a ghost.

“Angela..? You okay..?”

The older ones face went from shocked to angry.

“Was zur Hölle Lena??!”

“E-eh? Angie I dont speak angry germa-” 

“I was- We all were worried sick and you just walk in here as if nothing happened?? Where have you been?? Fareeha and Hana have been up all night searching for you!”

And then it hit the young agent. She had the feeling she had forgotten something. Full of guild she scratched her cheek. But before she got to say anything Angela already grabbed her by her upper arm. Unusually rough for the Medic.

“What happened to your head, verdammt, what were you thinking not contacting us.”

“I- uhm.. actually-”

“We have to get to the conference room, Fareeha and Hana are probably still up looking for you.”

her voice was full of worry as she already started to drag the smaller one into the direction of the so called CR. She didn't even get a chance to explain herself as she stumbled behind her and got curious looks from several colleagues.  
Inside the lift Angela started looking closer at the injury gently touching around it probably to see if Tracer reacted. And she did with a little hiss. It burned and felt like a giant bump although it just looked like a bad bruise and not like an egg sized hill on her temple.  
The younger one flinched at the sudden bright light blending her. Of course the medic had a little flashlight in her pocket..

“How did this happen?”

“Well to be honest-”

_Ding!_  
and she got dragged out the lift again stumbling once again as she tried to keep up while her arm was held tight a few inches too high to be even slightly comfortable.  
She didn't even know their beloved Mercy had such a tight grip.

“She is fine! She is fine, you can stop looking for her.”

Mercy exclaimed as she slammed open the door and dragged the young british into the dark room with several computer screens before finally letting go.  
Tracer rubbed her arm and looked at it a little worried it would bruise before looking up and laying eyes on two exhausted young women that obviously didn't get a wink of sleep.

“Sorry..” she mumbled barely audible and scratched the back of her head.

The Egyptian woman just let herself slump back into her seat and sighed partly relieved and partly annoyed. Hana on the other hand leaned her head on her hand and raised an eyebrow unimpressed.

“Girl, you owe me 9 hours of sleep and 12 hours of overtime.”

“I'm really sorry.”

“So what happened?”

Mercy already pushed here down to sit and looked at the injury again and scanned her for more. Lena just realized then that she forget to cover her neck, but it was already too late judging by Angela's tone.

“Yeah Lena, what happened?”

Lena's hand shot up to cover the dark mark. 

“Th-.. that's the funny part. I have absolutely no idea...”

“What do you mean you have no idea?” phara asked and raised her eyebrows in disbelieve.

“Concussion.” Angela answered. 

“Yeah I threw up kinda bad last night.... But I feel like the concussion isn't the main cause for forgetting. I can't even remember how I got home.”

Well she kind of did but something inside her told her not to tell them about 'Amélie'.  
Fareeha groaned and started typing something.

“Did you catch any names? Or are you able to describe the woman that you fought with?”

“I uhm....I am not sure. I feel like she had blue skin but that's just ridiculous, right? Her uhm... her hair was black and really long... and uhm French! She was french.”

Tracers skin started crawling as she remembered the thick accent.

“Uhm... Amé... I think her name was Amélie..?”she said hesitantly and looked uo unsure.

Fareeha and Angela both froze and looked at her in shock.

“Amélie??”

They both ignored Tracer's unsure nod and looked at each other.  
Hana seemed as clueless as Lena and just slurped away on her mountain dew fairly unimpressed.

“I'll get Morrison, you patch up Lena.”

And just like that the dark skinned woman left the room in a hurry.  
Lena looked completely dumbfounded at Angela who grabbed a first aid kid. She sighed and looked at the younger one. Obviously hesitating to explain the situation.  
She looked down at her fidgeting hands and then back up at Tracer. 

“Amélie Lacroix. Her husband was a scientist here. A pretty good one at that.”

Tracer looked at her still as puzzled as before and Angela sighed looking a little nervous up at the ceiling and than back down at her hands that were trying to find the desifection spray and bandaids.

“She killed him in his sleep after Talon kidnapped her.”

The british's mouth dropped open in disbelieve.  
Talon was able to make people do something like that?  
How was she still alive? How did this woman not kill her yet??  
She got nervous. Amélie knew where she was living. Tracer still didn't know how she found out but she should probably tell them. She should tell them.. So why didn't her voice do so?  
Why did her mouth not open itself and talk?

“Okay. You should be fine.”

Angela's look was worried.  
Her hand rested on her shoulder and she tried to give her an reassuring smile.

“Don't worry. We'll get her back. Amélie was one of the nicest person I knew. They cant have erased everything of her wonderful personality.”

Her eyes didn't leave her face.

“You know you should go home and rest. It may be just a small concussion but we better make sure. Go home and sleep or just relax.”

Home?

“A-actually-” Tracers throat tightened.

“Yes?”

“Can't I stay? I could do some paperwork or research? I want to help I don't like sitting around. You know me Angie..”

Angela smiled a little bit pitiful.

“No can do. I am the medic and responsible for the health of this whole team. And I can't have you throw up on imortant documents.. I'll call you a cab. Hana? Can you escort her upstairs?”

And just like that Tracer was put into a cab and send home. 

“oh god...” 

Why the bloody hell didn't she tell them. What was holding her back. She wasn't making any sense.  
The whole ride back her mind raced. Listing all the things in her brain that could possibly happen as soon as she went to sleep. She would lock every damn window and actually use that chain on her door for once.  
With shaky hands she opened the door and listened for a moment. Silence. Not even Lou made a sound. She exhaled relieved and closed he door behind her.  
Just as she undressed Lou made some munching noises in the kitchen.

“Lou? Don't tell me you opened the cupboard aga-”

She looked at her cat that happily ate from his bowl which was...still?... overflowing.

“You must be getting old buddy. Normally you would've already been done long ago.”

She huffed amused and let her little bag drop down to the ground to stretch a little.  
She went into her small livingroom that was pretty much the only room in this flat that she used since she rarely ever made use of her bedroom.  
She knelt down to see if there were any movies she felt like watching or if she'd rather feel like grabbing a book.

“Where did I put it...”

“Looking for this, Cherie?”

Tracer jumped at the sudden voice behind her and hit her head again making her slump down a little before jumping onto her feet, ready to shield herself from any incoming blows. But there wasn't anyone behind her. Instead the french woman was lying on Lena's couch, book on her stomach.

“Good read.” she commented the book and closed it, sitting up and pushing herself off the sofa.

Her face was an amused expression. But Tracer didn't even question it. She didn't care. Her body was just screaming _run_. So she ran towards the entrance hall only to get stopped by a hand that barely missed her face but cut off her escape path. Unable to stop in time she ran into the arm attached to it and coughed and the sudden impact with her throat.

“Ok.. What exactly do you want from me...”

her voice was more wheezing than actually speaking as she looked up at the woman. Only now did Tracer aknowledge the outfit. It was a a black turtleneck with 'cold shoulders' as Hana had explained a few weeks ago. It was a tight fit, hugging her curves all the way down to her hips were a black skinny jeans took over.  
She had to admit the outfit looked stunning. But also pretty lethal. If that was even a way to describe a look...

Amélie didn't answer. Instead she eyed the bandage on Tracers temple and caressed it.

“How's your head?”

Tracer huffed and squinted at her. “As if you'd care.”

“Maybe I do?”

Silence.  
She didn't care. Lena was pretty sure that that was a tad of sarcasm in the others voice.  
Then again that could be just her normal way of speaking. 

“You're not gonna ask any more questions?”

“Would you answer them?”

The french woman chuckled amused.

“Quick witted, aren't we?”

Her eyes trailed down to Lena's neck, smiling mischievously. It was obvious what she was looking at and it made Tracer's cheeks heat up a little.  
Her stair was weirdly intense..

“Like whatcha lookin' at?”

Tracer's voice was almost bitter.

“Oh yes.”

Her cold finger danced over the bruised spot, seemingly happy with how it turned out. But they didn't linger there for long before they made their way farther down her neck towards her shoulder and over her rib cage only stopping when she reached the hem of her shirt white-green shirt.  
Tracer looked at her unsure trying to hide the racing heart in her chest.

“You're face is really cute. Especially when you're confused.”

The smaller one's face flushed.

“Oh come o-” she bit her lip at the cold fingers slipping under her shirt. Lightly digging into her skin on the way up back to her rib cage.  
The older one chuckled again at the reaction and the visible goosebumps on Lena's arms. Her lips started nibbling on her earlobe without a warning.

“Mignonne.”

“Stop calling me c-...ugh..” 

She frowned at the sudden spinning sensation of her head and the weakening knees. Out of reflex she grabbed onto the other woman, groaning at the nauseous feeling that crept up her stomach.  
Amélie seemed to understand quickly. And huffed amused but Tracer coud've sworn there was a tad of pity in it.

“Maybe I used a little too much force yesterday, pardon.”

She didn't sound all to sorry but Tracer's brain wasn't processing much anyway at the moment. All she could manage was holding onto her to not drop to the ground and holding back chokes.

The next thing she realized was that she was lying down. When she finally opened her eyes there was a bucket right next to her and through her blurry view she saw Amélie picking up Lou and playing with his chub which made her huff out a barely audible snort before she closed her eyes, deciding that the spinning was still too much to keep them open for long.  
Was that woman really _that_ Amélie Angela and Fareeha thought of? Sure she was french and had the same name and was a Talon member.... and somehow she was pretty strong and dangerous but why would she let her live? She had so many opportunities already. Why did she carry Lena to bed instead of choking her? How was that the same person that killed her husband?  
With a groan she tried to open her eyes again. She wanted answers. But the woman already disappeared from her view, leaving her behind with her spinning head and the need to puke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for that quick end and for being a tease but concussion-tracer is in no condition to make out with that spider. Also I am sorry for ending that chapter kind of suddenly but the words were getting out of hand and i already passed my planned limit for a chap which is 4k but ok.
> 
> Promise there will be a makeout session in the next chap!
> 
> (Not happy with the way this is written ahhhh)


End file.
